


Outfoxing Fate

by Ann7121



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:07:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22005955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann7121/pseuds/Ann7121
Summary: Why was Servalan so bowled over by Jarvik?
Kudos: 8





	Outfoxing Fate

She would have welcomed rain but indifferently the sun shone all that week. In the end she retired to her chambers and refused to allow them in, ignoring their increasingly desperate requests. Let them think she was mourning the man rather than the opportunity he represented.

It was not her way to give up her hard-won controls, and so she did not rage, break things, or curse, when she knew for certain that there would be no miracle. Instead the pain of sadness settled in her heart and she curled herself around it like a sick animal. She felt emptied, hollow yet heavy, as if someone had altered the gravity controls and the earth was pulling her down. 

She had waited so long for someone suitable to come along - a man with acceptable traits, disposable yet not contemptible, with no political leanings or allegiances. It had not been enough just to look for someone outside the system: Avon had shown her that when he proved too politically astute to be seduced. When Jarvik appeared on her flight deck as if by magic, she had seized the chance he offered. 

Such a rare beast. Physically impressive, clever, but no threat to her power either. He was unencumbered by allies or family, so there would be no one to claim a share in any miracle that might occur; no-one to question or protest when, after successfully impregnating her, he was made to disappear. Then, stupidly, he was dead, killed by her troopers while saving that little Mellaby tramp. And despite the primitive fury of their mating, she was still empty.

It wasn't surprising. Her physicians had explained frequently, and in detail, the gradual atrophying effect of age on her eggs. She was doomed to die barren, with no heirs to inherit her Empire. 

The week dragged on. The sun forced its way through the chinks in the shutters that darkened her room, and she tossed under its probing beam with a misery that she could hardly contain. Yet even as despair threatened to consume her, an element, essential to her core of being, was re-emerging: a determination not to be bested by fate; to achieve her desires at whatever cost to others. 

Like the rays of the sun, ideas burned through her brain, igniting, then fizzling out. And suddenly one came to her, a flame strong and steady, cauterising her misery. She had remembered a report compiled by Travis on the rebel Cally, and the breeding processes devised by her people. 

Immediately, she rose from her bed and made her way to the Assembly Hall, startling her counsellors hovering there, so many lost sheep, as she flung open its doors and addressed them.

"Gentlemen," she announced. "I have plans for us to annexe the cloning facilities on Auron.”


End file.
